


Chapter Two: Twenty Ways To Kill Someone

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two, Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Gen, Quests, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandstorm and Octane agree to help Pantera, Depth Charge, and Hellfire with locating the <i>Lost Light</i>, but with reservations -- and that was before learning of the <i>Lost Light<i>'s prisoner.</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Two: Twenty Ways To Kill Someone

Sometimes words are not enough, sometimes you just need to kill someone.  
—["Twenty Ways to Kill Someone" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLFEL59Tn98) by Phosgore, from Warhead

 

Kethys Space Port

In Orbit over Sirius II

Now

Unlike other nonliving ships, this Warworld felt dead. Pantera had the unfortunate chance of being on a dead metrotitan before; comparing it against a regular space-faring ship was the difference between something living and something that was never alive to begin with: one knew the difference. And this Warworld had the sensation of saying last rites and throwing it in the smelter.

<<It's because of the wet-wiring,>> Hellfire explained. Whether he guessed her internal musings, or he sported some telepathic ability they had yet to know about, he did not divulge further. <<It was taken apart and put together from a molecular level when the Swarm devoured it with the Matrix.>>

"How do you know this?" Sandstorm snarled, bristling. "Look, you're knowing slag that we kept quiet from Iacon. We swore not to talk about it. How do you know about what happened?"

Pantera opened her mouth to speak; Hellfire put a hand on her arm and shook his head.

<<We agreed to transparency,>> He reminded. <<And you said they can be trusted.>> Putting a hand on his spark, Hellfire smirked. <<This is the shell and what remains of the spark of Journeyman Science Officer and Assistant Navigator Skyfire of the _Trifecta_ ; after a deep-space battle with the _Gigastorm_ , Skyfire was left for dead, where the ghost of Starscream found him and possessed him.>>

Octane tripped over his own feet and crashed head-first against the archway.

<<Problem was, the _Trifecta_ was experimenting with a quantum generator engine, similar to the one on the _Lost Light_. When Starscream possessed Skyfire — me — he was able to access the codes and — well, got information he shouldn't have. It may have been when he got the inspiration to steal the Matrix and this Warworld. I can't really say; I didn't regain...sentience? Consciousness? ...until later, when he — I — was zapped with the Transmetal driver. And I learnt everything he knew. >>

"Which is why you said you could fly our ship," Sandstorm sounded out, "because you have his memories."

<<Well, that's stretching the concept.>>

"He has a copy of Starscream's spark," Depth Charge growled. "That's what's keeping him alive. What's keeping him from going psychotic on us is what's left of the original kid."

Hellfire nodded, gesturing a thanks to the blue and gold Autobot. <<Well said, Depth Charge. So there you have it. That's why I can fly _Shadowstar_. But because of Skyfire — the navigator, not the namesake — I can find the _Lost Light._ >>

"I still don't get the _Shadowstar_ reference," Sandstorm interjected. "Rodimus used it in passing, regarding the _Wreckers' Spoils_ in the failed universe he had been stuck in."

"He never told you why it was called that?" Pantera questioned.

"And I quote, 'Imagine Starscream, ego crushed and constantly moping in a corner. That's _Shadowstar._ '" Octane picked himself up from the floor, dusting off his knees. "I'd pay money to see that."

"What we do know from the failed 'verse was that pretty much it was mirrored to our own, save that the Quints and the Legion were going toe to toe because — well — we as a race was wiped out. Rod found himself running with a crew of other dimensionally-displaced Autobots." Sandstorm thumbed a glyph in a doorway; the wall split, granting the five access to the bridge. "Other than that, he didn't talk much about what happened over there, other than he learnt to lead without relying on the Matrix."

"Charisma: wheeee!" Octane jested.

<<Reason why I tend to refer to this ship as _Shadowstar_ is that the failed universe's _Spoils_ was powered by an echo of Starscream — a corrupted copy of his spark, much like myself. You know how a quantum generator works, correct? >>

"It flaunts the laws of physics," Sandstorm stated.

<<Layman's terms. It works on the principle of entanglement. When engaged, for an instant, it exists in two places: where it's been and where it's going. But there's always a chance that there's a third state: where it could have been. And that's when things get complicated.>> Hellfire took the point, with Pantera flanking him. <<Because of what happened to Starscream — his death, his immortal spark, his merging of the Matrix and this Warworld, amongst other factors — he has always had this information. He was tangled up at a quantum level before he was even cold-constructed; all that knowledge. Glimpses which could be seen as genius, or prophetic...or madness. It's because it did happen, will happen, is happening...it's a wonder he's able to keep everything together.>>

"I think I lost you," Octane admitted.

"You get used to it," Depth Charge grumbled.

Hellfire turned to regard the larger Transformers. <<He can't call on it willingly, because for the most part, he doesn't realise it's there. Only when he comes close to a catalyst, he may get a stroke of inspiration, a "what if?" popping up. That's a blessing in itself, because if he could access it all, it would drive him rightfully mad.>> Hellfire diverted his optics before resuming his trek into the bridge. <<I'm only able to keep it sorted because I'm used to figuring shuffling complex equations and probabilities into different headspaces. That and I've got two feet and an arm in a smelter. The dead tend to be better at dealing with what-ifs and coulda-woulda-shouldas.>>

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Pantera directed to the larger Transformers.

"Welp," Octane shrugged. "we've encountered weirder slag."

"So what's the plan for destination?" Sandstorm questioned, flipping on power to the primary console. Lights flickered on, illuminating a bridge that less belonged to a horde of fearsome Decepticons and more to a pop culture sitcom: the communications station sported graffiti, posters, and figurines; part of the console had been converted into an entertainment system with gaming devices and music players. The captain's chair had been on the receiving end of a beat down. Someone had ripped out the ensigns' benches and replaced it with residential-grade futons, bolted down and installed with makeshift crash harnesses. The navigation area was untouched, but a bored crew member had used police tape to cordon off the section.

"This," Depth Charge grumbled, "is why Wreckers can't have nice things."

"So what's your purpose here, Blue?" Octane demanded. "Definitely not for your charismatic personality—whoa!"

One click, Depth Charge was leaning against the ladder to the turret housing; the next, Octane found himself on his backside, the manta Autobot standing on the Decepticon's chest with a double-barrelled shotgun in his face.

"Depth Charge, stand down!" Pantera barked.

"Octane, show your hands!" Sandstorm ordered at the same time.

"Damn, shorty, you pack a punch!" Octane held up his empty hands. "Too bad you can't take a ribbing—"

"Depth Charge!" Pantera repeated.

«Depth Charge doesn't do jokes,>> Hellfire explained. <<Hard to when your entire colony was decimated while you were forced to watch. And yes, speaking from experience, he does pack a punch.>>

Chambering his shotgun on his shoulder, Depth Charge harrumphed, jumping down from Octane's chest.

"To answer your question, Sandstorm, we're going to study the initial explosion of the _Lost Light_ , which is why we wanted to go to Cybertron." Pantera approached Depth Charge, resting a hand on his shoulder and meeting his gaze. Something passed between them — warning, reassurance — before she resumed her explanation. "If we can't get to Cybertron, we'll need to resort to other measures. Is there a way to access meteorological readings of Cybertron at that precise time?"

"Cybertronian Oceanic and Aeronautical records are public domain," Sandstorm retorted, taking the communications console and booting up the centre monitor. "I just need a time stamp — "

"Easy enough," Octane interjected, "it was covered by all the major Iaconian news networks."

"Give me a click; I'm not as fast as Cav with the advanced search functions." Sandstorm's fingers flew across the keyboard. "Hold on, got the initial report, throwing it to main monitor."

The front-facing viewscreen, at first displaying the inside of the dock, opaqued, then filled with a news report of the chaos surrounding the supposed explosion of the _Lost Light_. Hellfire vaulted into the navigator's cradle — far too large for his frame to sit comfortably — and brought up the terminal, inputting the time stamp into the system. "Do we have coordinates?"

Sandstorm nodded, still typing. "Iacon Space Port, I'll pull it up."

"Do you have controls for the playback?" Pantera questioned.

Sandstorm flicked a thumb to the front panel. "On the left; I think Cav put translations on the controls."

"This was Thunderwing's ride before we got our hands on it," Octane explained, falling onto one of the futons. "Everything was in old Cybertronian. That took a while to figure out."

Pantera bound up the console, landing solidly on the surface. Crouching, she concentrated on the screen, slowing the speed down tenfold and watching the frame-by-frame.

<<Don't let her lead you to think she's a grunt,>> Hellfire ordered.

"You've got a job to do," she reminded.

Hellfire squawked something unintelligible, resuming his programming. <<All right, I have a base factor. Any reports of _Lost Light_ activity from other outposts? That'll be a big help; otherwise, we'll be making educated guesses. >>

"I'll keep looking, but I can't promise anything." Sandstorm exhaled. "Outpost communications have been few and far between since Cybertron went dark. We get sporadic reports through standard channels, but after Galactic Alliance black-listed us, most of our ally satellites pulled out. A couple of Sirian-built ones remain, but they're not maintained regularly."

"Hellfire, looks like they've got a seven-degree arc before the explosion," Pantera reported, pausing the feed. Standing, she pointed to the ship on the screen. "Give or take. Giving that they're still in an atmospheric layer, can that narrow down our positions?"

<<Atmosphere will cut down the distance, definitely.>> Hellfire rose to his full height, then leapt with two strong beats of his wings, landing next to Pantera. <<Quills weren't fully charged, maybe sixty percent, judging by the luminosity, further cutting down distance. Six-point-eight degree arc. Give me a click to do the math.>>

"And like your former namesake, you're a nerd," Octane chortled. "Just like old times." Sitting upright, the violet and silver Decepticon reached under the ensign console and pulled out a cooler. "Who wants a drink? I have V7 — official-unofficial lager of the Wreckers, but that's because it's cheap as all slag — and some of Arty's leftover Stormin' The Garrison Stout. On second thought, better save that — she'll be wanting that back."

"Didn't think she liked being called Arty," Depth Charge muttered. He had taken the captain's chair, giving him the vantage of the entire bridge. His shotgun was across his lap.

"She doesn't," Sandstorm retorted. "Oc's the only one who can get away with it. Not exactly common knowledge, though, unless Hellfire here had some insider info."

<<I have more of the hard facts from Starscream's databases, not so much personal history. Some, but not much.>>

"I'll take a stout," Depth Charge answered.

"Playing dangerously. I like that." Octane grinned, tossing the bottle to the blue and gold Autobot. Depth Charge caught it with both hands. "How about you, 'Tera?"

"I don't imbibe, but thank you, all the same." She never looked away from her work. "Something's not right; any of you familiar with the make of the _Lost Light_?"

<<A hop-ship, originally under the designation _U1_. >> Hellfire returned to the navigation panel. <<Hold on, let me see if there's something in the ship's database — here.>>

In the lower right hand corner of the main screen, a schematic appeared of a hop-ship similar in build to the _Lost Light._

"Can you spin it to match the frame?" Pantera demanded.

Hellfire scoffed with a rasping buzz, but complied, the schematic rotating to match the Lost Light from the newsfeed.

"On it." Pantera zoomed on the bottom of the ship, then pointed to the main screen, indicating a protrusion that did not match the rest of the ship. "What is that?"

"Enhance," Octane chortled. Sandstorm grabbed a figurine from the console — a soft-form green bipedal with tentacles for a mouth — and lobbed it at his companion.

"Looks like a cell," Depth Charge offered. "From the design, likely a slow cell."

"Were they transporting prisoners?" Pantera questioned to no one in particular.

"Not that we knew of," Sandstorm shook his head, just as the plush bounced off his helm.

<<Looking at the manifest, three-quarters of the crew had some sort of record, but nothing warranting a slow cell.>> Hellfire snapped his fingers. <<But that's a factor, nonetheless. Especially if it's active. Sandstorm, can you download data on the launch sequence? Specifically weight distribution on the launch pad.>>

"I'm trying to remember if Screamer was this much of a nerd," Octane cracked open a can of V7. "Must have if he was fused at the hip with Sky — Jetfire — whatever in the early sols. You know what I hate? When they go about changing their names on me. It's bad enough when you get three Prowls in a single room, but when you're used to them being Prowl, and one goes up and changes his name, and you're like, 'Dude formally known as Prowl!' just to talk to him."

Sandstorm picked up the stuffed animal and flung it back at his reclining companion. "That might be tricky. Let's see if our black-hat left us something to play with."

"Weight distribution?" Pantera questioned.

Hellfire nodded. <<Gives us an idea of what they're carrying. Cargo and crew is easy enough to figure with a loaded manifest — any extra is either stowaway, contraband, or prisoner.>>

"Speaking of which!" Octane bolted to his feet. "Better lock down the hold; I know there's some leftovers from the last run."

Depth Charge groaned. "Forgot about the bootlegging."

"It was funding campaigns!" Sandstorm protested. "You try fighting a war against hordes of sparkless Legion troops without Iacon's sanction or funds!"

"And technically we were cleared of any charges!" Octane shouted from the hallway.

Depth Charge gave Pantera a withered glare.

"Sorry, Blue," she shrugged. "Desperate times and all."

"Is this something of use?" Sandstorm questioned, forwarding a data packet to Hellfire's console. "Don't know what it is, but Cav's program flagged it as potential."

<<This isn't official.>> Hellfire leaned forward, studying the data stream. <<In fact, this is a home brew. How did you get this?>>

"Through one of her programs — hold on. Sorry, this isn't my field. Looks like a protected cloud server...?"

Hellfire transmitted nothing for the better part of a cycle; only then did Sandstorm register the whirling rasp of the red and gold Autobot's vents. <<This is direct from the _Lost Light_. Someone transmitted it direct from the launch pad. >>

"Probably Cavalier, then. She must have felt like she needed to back up her hard drive." Sandstorm shrugged.

"You say that so casually," Pantera retorted, tone even. "You do realise the protocols she had to rip down to pull something like that down?"

"Knowing her, she probably doesn't realise the protocols she ripped down. She does things and then thinks about the consequences later, if at all. Attention span of an electron, our Brat has. Great, now you have me calling her that!" This, Sandstorm shouted in the direction of the hallway.

<<Looks three latecomers were logged: Artemis and two damaged Autobots, one listed as Whirl — >>

"Oh, hell," Sandstorm muttered.

<<—and a Minibot, yet unidentified. With that, we're looking at a plus-minus weight of ... Primus.>>

"What is it?" Pantera questioned.

Hellfire leaned forward, folding his hands together and resting his chin on his knuckles. <<Factoring in the slow cell as a standard weight single occupancy, we're looking at something running in excess of two hundred tonnes.>>

Depth Charge bowed his head to the right. "Cross reference Iacon prisoners within one-hundred and two-hundred-fifty tonne class, crime: multiple homicide. Current time frame."

"'Multiple...homicide?'" Sandstorm parroted.

"Yeah, only reason why Autobot protocol would use a slow cell on a prisoner. One hit." Depth Charge's head bowed, brow forward as though preparing for battle. After a five click pause, he growled, "Slag."

"Who is it, Blue?" Pantera demanded. "Depth Charge, you only do that if it's X, and it can't be X. Who is it?"

Now the stoic warden stood in the chair, fidgeting. "Only one hit fits the criteria: Overlord."

Silence settled in fallout over the bridge.

"Well," Octane huffed, holding a case of Nightmare Fuel in his arms, "That's something one doesn't expect to walk in on."

 

Next Chapter: Hair of the Dog


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